Out of Sight
by x-Miyako-x
Summary: After a certain mishaps with Undertaker, Grell's glasses have ended up in quite a state. Undertaker, ever the gentleman to his lady, decides to take her to see Lawrence Anderson - known my most as Pops - for a new pair. Special Guest Appearance by Ronald Knox. See inside for snarky comments, Grell-feels, the Derp Trio and Anderson not wanting to take any of Undertaker's bull.


Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji. It and the characters belong to Yana Toboso. I make no profit from writing this.

**A/N: This somehow when from being a cute fluff to a slightly angtsy little twat with minor headcanons. Funny how things work out.**

* * *

Grell flushed to the roots of his hair, curling into himself to hide from the gazes of his peers.

"How did you say this happened again?" Lawrence Anderson asked with a dark look on his face.

"I- uh... I didn't," Grell mumbled.

Undertaker stepped forward and placed an arm around Grell's shoulders, "Come now, Anderson. Don't antagonize the dear."

Lawrence shook his head, "And do you still have the design you brought me last time? I'm sure you can understand that I see many glasses in one day, and it has been many years since I've had business with you."

"Can't you just fix them?" Grell hesitated.

"Not like this I can't... I don't know what you did to them but..."

Grell scratched the back of his neck and ducked into Undertaker's coat. "I..."

"We," Undertaker supplied helpfully.

"We... We couldn't find the document," Grell whispered.

"You couldn't –" Anderson groaned, "Well alright. Isn't there anyone here, _with_ glasses, who can help you find them?"

Ronald Knox stepped up with a grin, "I'll help ya Miss Grell. Where d'you think it is?"

"Oh, I know where the papers are! I just can't very well _see_ them!" Grell snapped.

"Oi, no need to get angry," Ronald grinned, "I'll help y'out." He started toward Grell's home, leaving Undertaker to lead the near-sighted red head. Though the elder reaper's vision was no better, he had much more experienced in navigating with his vision impaired.

Their walk was a short one, and silent. Once they'd reached the door, Grell pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and handed them to Ronald, "It's the square one with the flower on it."

"Square, with the flow – Aha!" Ronald held up the key for Grell to inspect.

"That... Looks like the one."

"Good," Ronald quickly unlocked the door, letting the three of them inside. Ronald looked around and was surprised to find that Grell had _not_ decorated his home in 50 shades of red, though of course, many accessories of such a colour could be found. "Nice place Miss Grell."

"Thanks Ronnie," Grell smiled. He took off his coat and hung it by the door. "The notes should be in my office upstairs."

"Erm," Ronald scratched his neck, "Think you could be more precise than that... Or maybe show me the way?"

"Oh, right, of course," Grell chuckled and stepped forward to help Ronald and, missing the look of shock on the blonde's face, tripped over the pair of fluffy, red slippers in front of him, "Gah!"

Undertaker jumped forward and quickly pulled Grell back enough for the red head to regain his balance but lost his own in the process, thus pulling them down together. Undertaker turned slightly, allowing Grell to fall over his chest. All the while, Ronald stood by and laughed at the two of them.

"What are you laughing at blondie?" Grell snapped from his spot on Undertaker's chest before bursting into laughter.

Undertaker chuckled with mirth, covering his face with a large sleeve, "My apologies, dearest. It was my intention to help you up, not drag you down."

"It's quite alright, darling," Grell finally attempted to pull himself up. "Help me out, would you, Ronnie?" Grell held out his arm blindly for Ronald to take.

Ronald quickly took Grell's arm and helped him up. Once he was sure the red head wouldn't fall over once more, he reached down to help Undertaker up as well.

Grell dusted off his pants before standing tall, "Well come on then," he said with a huff but before he could take a step Ronald and Undertaker were on either side of him.

"To make sure you don't fall," Ronald said with a smirk while Undertaker did nothing but chuckle.

"Ha ha," Grell glared at Ronald's head since he couldn't properly stare into his eyes, "I fall once?"

"Come now dearest," Undertaker pressed a gentle kiss to Grell's temple, "Would you deny a gentleman the chance to look after his lady?"

Grell shook his head with a pout but let him lead the group up the stairs slowly. Into the office they went, nearly tripping once more, this time on a fluffy, red throw lying on the floor.

"You're kinda messy , huh?" Ronald commented as he rolled up the blanket and tossed it onto the chair behind the desk, raising his arms in silent excitement when the roll landed in the correct place on the first try.

"_You_ are telling _me_ this?" Have you _seen_ our office recently?" Grell crossed his arms over his chest defensively, "If you must know, I left in a hurry... To see my silver knight!"

"Of course you did," Ronald chuckled at the look of dismay on Grell's face. "So these documents, where might I find them?"

Grell dropped down into the chair and threw the bunched up blanket at Undertaker's head. The silver-haired reaper swiftly unfolded it and wrapped it around his shoulders, posing in a humorous imitation of a runway model.

Grell laughed, "Oh, I wish I had my glasses to see _that_ one properly!" He pulled open the last drawer on the desk to take out a large binder. "It's in here somewhere," he said as he placed the binder on the desk with a heavy _THUMP!_

Ronald flipped the binder open with a look of surprise, "These... You drew all of these?"

"Yes," Grell nodded proudly, "and if you steal or duplicate anything you see in here, I'll have your head!"

"Not to worry about that Miss Grell," Ronald assured, "So you designed your own glasses?"

"Of course I did, you dolt!" Grell snapped, "I designed and made my scythe myself; you think I couldn't handle a pair of glasses? I wouldn't be caught dead in those boring old frames – no offense to father. Who do you think provided management with the outline for your own scythe?" Grell placed his hand on the book, effectively pausing Ronald on the exact schematic he spoke of.

"Woah," Ronald looked over the blue print with a gasp, "I don't even understand half of this. You got all that from the one conversation before my final exam? That's awesome Miss Grell!"

"Erm, thanks," Grell giggled shyly, "It was no big deal really. I just thought it was something you would like."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" Ronald squeaked exfcitedly. "Thanks Miss Grell," he suddenly sobered with a smile before resuming his search.

Undertaker leaned curiously over the other side of the desk as Ronald flipped through the pages, "You'll have to show me these one day. They sound rather interesting," he smirked, "though at this speed I can hardly see a thing."

"Of course, darling," Grell agreed with a smile, "Whatever you –"

"Aha!" Ronald cringed at Grell's sharp look at being interrupted, "Sorry about that, but I found your glasses."

"Ah," Grell grinned, "about time. Get that out of there then and let's go."

Undertaker frowned as Ronald removed the papers from the ring binder, "I think perhaps you ought to give the man a copy instead of the original," he offered, "If I remember anything about Lawrence, and I'm sure I do... He'll likely discard the documents as soon as he's done with them."

"Oh no!" Grell fussed, "That absolutely will not do!" He stood and rushed to one of the bookshelves in the corner of the room where his printer sat, "Ronnie, be a dear and photocopy those for me, would you?"

"No problem!" Ronald saluted with tweo fingers before doing as instructed, glad that the machine was easy enough to use or they might have been there much longer if he'd had to ask Grell to show him how to use it.

With a sigh of relief that it had worked, Grell took the copies and allowed himself to be led downstairs carefully on Undertaker's arm. "Ronnie, I am trusting you to put those papers back where they belong," he said on his way out.

"Yes, Miss Grell," Ronald quickly returned the pages to their place within the binder, and the binder to its place in the last drawer of the desk before joining them downstairs.

Undertaker meanwhile helped Grell to put on his coat, hanging the red throw on the coat rack in silence.

Ronald finally noticed the silence, and of course, had to comment on it, "You've been awfully quiet Undertaker. You alright over there?" He laughed as they all exited the house, leaving Ronald to lock up before returning the keys to Grell.

"Oh, of course," Undertaker said calmly, "It is simply..." He trailed off, uncertain of how to continue.

Grell spoke up for him, "The last time the brute helped me in and out of my clothes is what got us into this mess in the first place," he said crudely, and with a harmless glare aimed at his lover.

Ronald snorted, "No way!" At the two serious gazes pointed his way he burst into laughter. "No way; I don't believe you."

"Fine by me," Grell said as a dark flush crept over his cheeks.

"Aha!" Ronald clutched his stomach as he almost doubled over, "You're both totally serious! This is – I can't believe it!"

"It was _his_ fault," Grell pointed accusingly at Undertaker.

"I'm sure it was," Ronald agreed but laughed anyway, "but it's still funny as hell." They can survive your face being smashed into goodness-knows-what all the time, but not a little sexing up?"

"Shut up," Grell grumbled.

Undertaker pulled the red head to his side, "Worry not, lovely lady. Lawrence will have you a brand new pair soon enough."

"I suppose you're right, "Grell leaned into the embrace, "Still, that doesn't mean I'm pleased about it."

"Uh, Grell," Ronald hesitated as they reached Headquarters, noting the many curious faces inside, "Hate to say it Miss Grell, but I don't think I'm the only one who was curious."

"What makes you say that, Ronnie?"

"Everyone is staring," he mumbled sheepishly.

"Bah! Let them," Grell said, "since they've clearly got nothing better to do."

"If you're sure..." Ronald reluctantly opened the door and let them in.

The trio entered and the room fell dead silent, if only so everyone could give the newcomers their full attention before the whispering began again.

_Where are his glasses?_

_Is he deserting?_

_Is he is, that why is he here?_

_Maybe he broke them?_

_That wouldn't surprise me!_

_That is Grell Sutcliff after all. Don't tell me you haven't heard –_

The noise stopped there as Undertaker blessedly thought to place his hands over Grell's ears as they walked, sending a dark glare at any who would dare to speak in such a manner with no care as to who heard them, even that person was the one they spoke of. Grell flushed darkly in humiliation.

"It's alright darling," he pulled Undertaker's hands down, taking one in his own, after taking a settling breath. "I meant what I said. Let them talk; I know what they think of me. This is nothing new..."

"That doesn't make it right, my rose," Undertaker squeezed her hand as they entered the elevator.

Ronald made sure no one else was coming before entering, and pressing the button for the top floor. He turned to the couple, watching Grell curiously. "Are you alright Miss Grell?" he asked quietly, and knew as soon as Grell turned to look at him that he shouldn't have asked.

The red head's eyes were brimming with tears as he shook his head. Grell ducked to hide his face in Undertaker's coat and scarf. He remained silent as the grave for a short moment – the calm before the storm – before he began to tremble, his shoulders began to heave and choked sobs were torn from his throat. Ronald looked with wide eyes at Undertaker, unsure of how to proceed.

"There there, dearest," Undertaker pulled Grell close, "If a lovely rose such as yourself allowed herself to remain under the oppressive cloud those fools brew, she would surely never bloom."

"I'm sorry darling," Grell blinked up at him, red faced, with tears in her eyes, "I've made a mess of your clothes."

"Please don't worry yourself with that," Undertaker placed one long, black nail under Grell's chin before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, "It is alright to cry, love, but do not let their words leave their mark on you."

Grell nodded sadly, but smiled, thankful for the kind worked, "Thank you darling." He leaned against the other once more, his head on Undertaker's shoulder as he faced Ronald, "Sorry about that Ronnie. I didn't mean to worry you."

Ronald nodded and offered Grell a tight-lipped smile, "It's alright Miss Grell, as long as you're feeling better now?"

"I am, thank you."

"Good," Ronald grinned, "because we're here."

"Oh goodness, let me have a look at my makeup, will you?" Grell stepped out of the lift and off to the side. He pulled a small mirror out of his pocket and held it a few inches from his face. Satisfied that his makeup hadn't run, Grell wiped his cheeks before snapping the mirror shut and returning it to his pocket. He took a few quick, calming breaths and smiled at his companions, "Let's to this."

"As my lady commands," Undertaker chuckled and held his arm out for Grell to take.

Ronald led the way into the large office where Lawrence Anderson made and displayed his glasses. A small crowd of curious onlookers had gathered since their earlier visit, no doubt due to rumours that Grell had destroyed his old pair and was in need of a new one. No doubt the lot of them expected the red head to receive quite the scolding.

"There you are," Anderson greeted them gruffly, "I was starting to wonder if the lot of you had gotten lost."

"Not with dear Ronald here leading the way," Undertaker responded casually, taking their audience by surprise.

"And you found the documents?" Anderson asked.

"Yes, sir," Ronald cheered as Grell silently handed Lawrence the papers.

_Why does he need those papers? Doesn't father design all the glasses himself_, they heard someone ask, but ignored the question.

"Ah yes," Anderson adjusted his own glasses as he admired the notes presented to him with a smile, "A beautiful model really," the smile fell from his lips, "Still can't read your bloody handwriting though."

Undertaker hummed, "They do say a messy script is a sign of intelligence..."

Their audience spoke up again.

_Intelligent! Him?_

_Ha! That's a good one!_

_Intelligent my ass!_

_Children write messily as well_, one of them laughed, but their comments went unheard.

"Perhaps you're correct," Anderson chuckled, "Well, I think I can figure this much out anyway... It really is a lovely design."

_Did he design them himself?_

"Um, thank you," Grell scratched the back of his neck.

"No problem," Anderson acknowledged, "If you ever decide to retire from active duty, you'll always be welcome to work here... But you'll have someone else write your notes, or you'll type them," he laughed.

Grell's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock, "Really? Wow! Um... Thank y– wow!"

_Him?_

_Ugh. This is getting boring._

"I'd say it's almost a good thing you broke them, so I've got a chance to make this model again."

At this point Grell simply stood with a silly grin on his face and stars in his eyes, beyond grateful and beyond words.

"How _did_ you break them exactly?" Anderson looked confused, "I was under the impression that this was a very sturdy pair of glasses. I'd like to know what force finally managed to decimate them."

_Oh~ now he's gonna get it!_

Undertaker cringed at his old friend's choice of words, "Erm... That was my fault actually..." He raised his hands in supplication.

_No way! Grim broke _that one's_ glasses?_

Anderson's eyes narrowed at the older reaper, "_You?_"

_Oh shit..._

"You didn't break yours enough that you had to break someone else's?"

_Heh! Guess this isn't so bad after all._

_Didja see pop's face? He's so pissed!_

_Who would'a thought Grim would'a been one to bust his glasses?_

Undertaker chuckled nervously while Grell and Ronald looked at him in equal states of surprise, "It was an accident, Lawrence, I swear!" Undertaker insisted.

Anderson shook his head in exasperation, "Hopeless," he muttered under his breath. "That aside," he said with a final glare at Undertaker before turning back to Grell, "I wonder if you wouldn't be opposed to making these a part of this year's new collection? I'm sure there are quite a few reapers who would be thankful for it."

_Ew! _Those_ glasses?_

_I'm leaving. I can't take this anymore._

_This is just crazy._

_Me too. Let me know how it turns out._

"Um... I- uh..." Grell stuttered.

"Of course, I wouldn't take credit for them," Lawrence continued, "I could always put your scribbly signature on the temple somewhere."

Words simply wouldn't come to Grell, so overwhelmed as he was with emotion. He nodded vigorously with a large grin on his face, and finally, "Yes! Oh yes! If you really want to. If you really think it'll work out."

"I think I'll leave the –" he squinted at the paper, "'bright red, red like a flame, or a ladybug, or a rose... or blood' out of the mix though," Anderson laughed. "I don't think there's another soul here willing to wear something so bold!"

Grell chuckled and bowed his head, "All the better for me I suppose," he grinned, "I wouldn't want some rookie coming in here with the same glasses as me, having you think I've broken them again and again , and ruining my perfect reputation."

"As far as I'm concerned," Anderson pulled out a folder from his desk, "You've never broken your glasses. I'm not putting this is your file. _You_ however," he once again glared at Undertaker. "There's a red mark going in _your_ file. Count yourself lucky if I ever make you a pair of glasses again."

Undertaker shrugged, "Do what you like," he grinned, "I'm retired."

Anderson rolled his eyes and went back to the documents he'd taken out, signing a few pages and offering Grell a temporary pair of trainee glasses so that he could sign as well. "You'll need to bring these to your supervisor. I don't think you should be running about without your regular glasses –" Grell nodded, "You can keep those for now. I'll call for you within the end of the week as soon as I'm finished with your new ones and you can return the trainee pair."

"Thank you, father," Grell cheered and took the offered folder. "I'll look forward to your excellent work."

Anderson shook Grell's hand tightly, "Of course, though no more than I look forward to the work, I imagine." He shooed them away with a hand as he began reorganizing his work station, "Keep him away from those glasses, Grell Sutcliff. I want them back in one piece."

"Yes, sir," Grell smiled once more, before taking Undertaker's hand in his and leaving the office. "Thanks for the help Ronnie," he added before they reached the elevators.

"No problem Miss Grell," he nodded. "Anytime." Ronald grinned conspiringly, "Anything to get away from paperwork; am I right?"

Grell laughed and gave him a quick hug before hopping into the lift. All that was left was to bring William the papers ordering his leave of absence – that he couldn't dismiss – then Grell could go home and relax with his silver knight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_So how did it go then?_

_Agh! You wouldn't believe me if I told you._

_Try me._

_Pops gave him a week off._

_No way! You're kidding?!_

_Maybe I should break your glasses?_

_Ha! I doubt any of us should be so lucky._

_Did you see the way he glared at us on the way out?_

_Nope._

_Haha. Maybe you should get your glasses replace anyway._

_Hey!_

* * *

**A/N: Welp, there it is. Who knew writing by candlelight, on a balcony with a view, at 1 in the morning could be so inspiring? What to write next I wonder...**


End file.
